


Casualties

by Estel



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Shattered Empire
Genre: Gen, Rogue One Spoilers, Side Story, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8890768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estel/pseuds/Estel
Summary: [WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ROGUE ONE]Through the stories of his parents, Poe Dameron finds some perspective on how much was sacrificed to bring about the New Republic and it informs who he is and what he does when the First Order rises from the ashes of the Empire.





	

When he was a boy, Poe Dameron’s parents took him to see the old Massassi temples on Yavin 4. It was a quick flight from their farm to what once was the fulcrum for the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Despite regular skirmishes over the contents of the temples at the height of the Galactic Civil War, they still stood as a testament to both their extinct builders and the Rebels that defended them. Since the end of the war, under the supervision of the New Republic, they had been cleaned and cleared of any remaining salvageable remnants of the military action that once populated the halls and hangars.

Neither Kes Dameron nor Shara Bey had been stationed on the gas giant’s moon for very long during the war, but they still had plenty of stories to keep their son mystified the whole day as they explored the cavernous ruins that were slowly being reclaimed by the wild vines and roots of the surrounding forest.

Yavin 4 was always like that. If it wasn’t being cleared out, the forest would try to reclaim whatever it could. It was a regular family chore to clear the vines from the fences surrounding their crops. That was until an old friend of his mother’s created a deterrent system involving similar technology to the heating systems on old freighters. Many years later, when Poe asked his father why they settled on Yavin 4, he simply said they were “drawn to it”. Then he would ramble on about how it was the seat of the war and that some long lost relation had been a melon farmer on a moon with similar climate.

The Rebel Alliance’s ideals and doctrines painted every inch of Poe’s young life. He fell asleep to his mother’s tales of heroism among the stars and learned ingenuity from his father’s seemingly endless survival skills.

When he was 14, Poe pried a rare story from his father about the infiltration of the shield generator on the Forest Moon’s surface. Kes recounted the perils of fighting AT-ST’s in a hilly forest and the tenacity of Ewoks (a favorite species of his father’s thereafter) while winding wire from repairing a vine lattice.

Poe was piling tools back into their crate as he listened. “And they built all those traps, what, just in case?”

“I guess so. I never did understand a word they said,” Kes said laughing and dusting his hands off.

“So the bunker doors opened into a shuttle platform? And it was just you, Oste, and Tuck holding it? Against all those bucketheads?”

“It was tight for sure,” Kes replied to his eager son, but then paused. “But it was no Scarif.”

It was a name his father had mentioned before with a similarly haunted look to the one he had as he sealed the crate and dusted the dirt from his pants. From what Poe understood, Scarif had been a sight of an early battle in the Galactic Civil War. Most notable for its terrestrial losses and the acquisition of the plans to the original Death Star by Rebel infiltrators.

The young man lifted the hefty tool crate and looked up as his father got to his feet, too. “Were you on Scarif?”

“No, it was before my time,” Kes quickly replied. “The Pathfinders on the surface were listed at 100% casualties. No one came home that day.”

The words hit Poe as he mulled over what that all meant. All those soldiers sacrificed their lives to get one piece of data that would eventually give the Alliance to Restore the Republic enough momentum to push through the war. Those sacrifices were what allowed the Rebels to win and most likely allowed him to have the life he had.

That heavy knowledge stuck with him even as he served the New Republic Navy. Despite his renown as a pilot and his mother’s revered skills in the cockpit, he remained a student of his father’s as well. When given the opportunity, Poe researched the little recorded of action on Scarif, never forgetting his father’s solemn face as he spoke of it or the feeling of deep gratitude for their sacrifice.

“Cptn. Cassian Andor; Sgt. Jyn Erso; Sgt. Ruescott Melshi…” He said the names over and over again as he looked through their files, some more extensive than others. This group of rogue agents opened a door for the future on Scarif. Most had similar notations to his parents in their files. Notes like “headstrong” and “needed a reminder of the chain of command” were common. Were he reviewing these logs for recruitment to Rapier Squadron, he would have deemed them all the very material a good unit was made from. Each had posthumous citations for bravery by the Alliance Cabinet.

Those files put faces to the losses that had laid the foundation for a new galaxy. Even as he pushed back against the very Republic that they sacrificed their lives for, Poe knew the Alliance they died for was not made in an image worthy of its Rebel history if it could ignore the rising First Order.

It was not the myth the Republic painted it as. It was a monster gathering strength in the dark. Horrible words like “separatist” and “extremist” started to filter into whispered conversations about him by his officers. Had they so soon forgotten the deceitful tactics of the Empire? What made them so willing to turn away from what he knew to be imminent peril?

They didn’t have the image of a hundred funeral pyres burning on the moon of Endor painted vividly in their mind. They didn’t see the husks of Alderaanian houses floating on asteroids drifting past Ord Mantell. They had forgotten sacrifices like Scarif.

One night on leave, Poe and a few other pilots sat in a cantina drinking healthily and having a few laughs. In a drunken fit of passion, Poe was explaining how the First Order was amassing in the unknown regions, likely not for the first time, to his compatriot, Karé Kun. She humored him as usual in his rambling, keeping part of his words aside to consider at a time when her mind was not clouded by a finely mixed Flameout.

All of Poe’s rambling drew the attention of a nearby soldier. “Stop making up ghost stories, Dameron. Not all of us worry about the Stormtrooper hiding under our bunk.” The younger man said it loud enough to catch Poe’s attention.

The pilot’s head snapped in the direction of the remark, his eyes suddenly focused and sober. “Maybe you’d rather wake up to the sound of Tie Fighters, pal, but not me.”

“Is that why all reports have come back negative on recon missions chasing false reports of Imperial forces? We stomped them into dust.”

“You did, did you?” Poe jumped up, slipping out of the grasp of two of his friends who tried to hold him back. “You personally took down those Star Destroyers over Jakku? You pounded out the ground forces hiding out on Burnin Konn after the Iron Blockade? Well thank you. I’m very impressed.”

The soldier moved closer to Poe, squaring his shoulders to face him. “You’re funny for a space jockey.”

“You’re pretty quick to include yourself in the Alliance’s victories when your action commendations probably peak at Hosnian ground defense.” Just before the soldier could process Poe’s quip and come in swinging, Karé and Muran grabbed up Poe.

“Hey let’s take it down a little,” Muran interrupted. “We’re all on the same side here.”

The soldier’s buddies took their cue from the pilots and ushered their friend away.

“Are you crazy?” Karé asked pushing Poe into their booth and sitting to block him in. “I mean really crazy. You’re already under observation by command.”

“Everyone’s got to wake up some time.” He felt the same ache in his chest from when he was 14 looking up at his father. Was the Republic doomed to die from its own ignorance? If the rise First Order was kept quiet, the Republic, which was built on the dedication of pilots like his mother, the labors endured by soldiers like his father, and the sacrifices like those who died on Scarif, would surely be in danger. He would do anything to safeguard the dream he was raised to pursue.

Then if he did his job right, there wouldn’t need to be another name among the thousands who sacrificed everything to bring peace to the galaxy.


End file.
